


We Would Be Harmony

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Bingo 2018 Works [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Hunter Castiel, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Episode s05e07, Romantic Fluff, SPN Fluff Bingo, SPN Fluff Bingo 2018, Season/Series 05, reverse!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: Not a lot gets to Castiel Novak’s self-proclaimed guardian angel, Dean.  For some reason, after a case of high-stake poker (gambling with years of their lives instead of chips) Dean’s visit that night shows he’s a little…unhinged.  And it’s not because he hates witches.Castiel is determined to get to the bottom of it—but whether it’s by interrogation or with a soft touch is up to his lover.





	We Would Be Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Another year, another Bingo, and this time around: the prompts are fluff-based! Which works perf for me, because as you guys know happy endings (with or without puns) are my jam. I've got a ton of fun stuff in the works: smutty goodness, a series, some plot-driven oneshots—all with fluffy elements!
> 
> I am SO lucky that my babe [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/) is with me on this adventure again, I seriously can never thank my wonderful, amazing, hard working HERO enough!
> 
> Here's a cute, short Reverse!Verse to get things started :)
> 
> Written for SPN Fluff Bingo 2018  
> Square Filled: Nose Kisses
> 
> **Ann's Notes:** This chapter is post-5.07, but there are references to 5.16 (Dark Side of the Moon). As a minor adjustment for the sake of the fic, please pretend that 5.16 has already happened :)

****“Man, I hate witches!”

The voice breaking the silence of the room had Castiel jolting out of bed, his hand wrapped around the gun under his pillow with his finger hooked on the trigger.  The gut-instinct to shoot fizzled out when he came face to face with a grinning angel seated at the edge of his bed; Cas’ posture didn’t slacken, it collapsed in relief.

“Dammit, Dean!  Can’t you…” he trailed off, because the words never seemed to stick.  They never resonated and at this point, the hunter knew it wasn’t out of ignorance, it was because Dean enjoyed the reaction he garnered.

Castiel flopped back down and set his firearm on the nightstand as his heartbeat slowed.  He realized Dean had mentioned witches and asked accusingly, “You were watching?  While we almost died?   _Again_?”

The angel was wearing a shit-eating grin as he scooted up closer and teased, “I watched you bet away your sexy years and go all silver-fox on me, yeah.  Not gonna lie, no matter what age—you’re still a looker, Cas.”

“I had a heart-attack,” he deadpanned and narrowed his eyes.  “There was nothing ‘sexy’ about it.”

“I woulda scooped your ass outta Heaven.”  Dean looked offended, like he had it all planned out one way or another.  “Sorry I can’t be there to fly you away each time you get into trouble.  Do you have _any idea_ what my wing-mileage would look like if I did that?  Yesh!  You and your damn brother have more close calls more than anyone I’ve met!  And I’ve been around since the _beginning_!”

A slight smile quirked the edges of Cas’ cheeks as he sat up, matching Dean’s posture.  He tilted his head, watching the angel in the blue light of the room from where the TV was still on—he’d passed out before he could grab the remote.  
  
Honestly, Cas could lose himself staring at Dean.  Analyzing all those not-so-human tells, like the way he barely blinked, his disregard for personal space, and his maddening beauty.  The shadows falling on his face did nothing to detract from the fact that Dean was undeniably and ridiculously attractive—especially when he wore that playful expression Cas knew only meant trouble.  
  
For Dean?  He’d rise to the occasion and give him hell right back.

Just barely leaning in, Cas lowered his voice and pointed out, “Yet, you continue to monitor us.  No matter the trouble, I’d place bets that you’d still help us fly away from danger no matter how sore your wings became.”

“Bets like you and yer sorry-ass poker game?”  He was clearly trying to change the subject, a barely-there pink flush bringing out his freckles.  “I need to teach you a thing or two about bluffing.”

It was moments like this that Castiel lived for.

Dean was not what he’d expected when he’d first met an angel.

Mostly, because upon first glance the word ‘angelic’ couldn’t be applied to the man—or rather, vessel—in front of him.  No, in all of Cas’ years as a hunter, he would have called Dean downright _devilish_ before he compared him to the holy.

That was before Castiel really grew to know him.

On the outside, Dean was reckless bravado.  He indulged in everything human: he knew people and their nuances, how to blend in, hell, Dean knew more about pop culture than Castiel did.  The angel rolled in like a tornado and left chaos in his wake.

Except, the closer they became…the more the hunter (who was educated in all things inhuman) picked up on what made Dean… well, larger than life.  Unique.  And unearthly.

At first, the thing that set Dean apart had been the way he rendered Cas breathless on the battlefield.  The grace in which he moved, the cunning execution of his kills—it was mesmerizing.  The strength and fortitude he masked underneath that careless smile would make a lesser man weak in the knees, but Castiel was pulled in like a magnet.  
  
Of course it would be the way that Dean _destroyed_ that created and grew Cas’ interest exponentially.  He’d never been drawn to anyone in this way, and it figured the desire would be sparked by _something_ rather than a typical _someone_.

It didn’t matter; Castiel was lucky enough that Dean allowed it.

Because on the other side of the coin, these very moments—the tender ones that could grow more intimate—showcased what Castiel could very well call _divine_.

With all that booming bravado in place, Castiel had initially thought nothing of making a move on the fearless angel…who turned out to be not-so-fearless.    
  
Surprisingly, _Dean_ had been the one who choked, turned red, and panicked from a simple first kiss, and the hunter had worried that he’d ruined everything.

Apparently, in all his years ‘since the beginning’ Dean may have been _watching_ humanity and learning, but he had never interacted.

Thank God, after the initial hiccup, he deemed Cas worthy of more… interaction.

Even if Dean could be timid.  Sometimes mechanical.  Right now, adorably shy.

While tonight the angel had arrived—per usual—to deliberately scare the living fuck out of Cas, it was his own way of checking in with his lover.  Dean knew how to: acting like a foolish, young boy pulling pigtails on the playground.

Fortunately for Dean, Castiel was patient with his boisterous ‘flirting.’  Cas didn’t mind the fact that the angel had no concept of time, not caring enough to look at a damn clock and, well…

Cas was very, very much in love.

He reached out and grabbed the front of Dean’s dress shirt to haul him in, wondering, “Did you forget your tie?”

“Heh, I know you’ve got a fetish for stringing me up with it, I didn't wanna distract you…”  His voice was tentative, although he never stuttered as Cas rested their foreheads together.  “You think I’m gonna risk _that_ when you’ve got a night to actually sleep without your bro here, snoring?  I think not!”

Interesting.  That meant that Dean very well may have been legitimately worried about him.    
  
Clearly, he wasn’t worried about Gabriel or a tie fetish keeping Cas awake, because Dean had brashly busted in, doing the same damage to his sleep schedule.  Dean had to see Cas was all right with his own eyes and wanted it to be just them tonight.   _If_ Castiel was reading the situation correctly.

“It’s not like the tie was truly restraining you,” Cas pointed out, soothing the angel’s jacket off his shoulders.  “Does that mean you’re here to complain?  Or do you wish to sleep with me?”

“Maybe.  Yeah.”

The hunter could tell he was waiting to be led.  As if Dean didn’t want to ask for too much.  For some reason, he wished for Cas to be the one to suggest things even though it _was_ Dean planting the ideas.  While the angel was baiting him, these moments—where they were touching, and Dean’s stillness was uncanny—propelled Castiel to move.

The warning was delivered: “You can either snap down to your boxers, or I’ll rip these off for you—”

And to the hunter’s delight, when his hands went to grasp buttons, he felt bare chest knock against his knuckles instead.

“Perfect.”  Cas’ voice turned husky as he tugged Dean close and kissed him.

The angel was very eager and pliant as he was guided under the covers, their body heat finally joining and pressing together.  It still wasn’t enough, not for Castiel.  Right before they tumbled backwards, completely horizontal, he pulled his own shirt off so they were skin on skin.

It was always easy to roll Dean onto his back, hell, tonight he made the move before Cas could even maneuver him around.  The angel’s hands sought him out, tangling in the hair at his nape and grasping his shoulder blade in a desperate move.  Like Dean needed to hold onto him, needed to make sure he was still here.

The way Dean kissed him, grappled for him—something was odd.

Cas’ hands splayed over his chest and caressed his sides, but then he paused and boxed Dean in on the mattress, pushing up on his elbows.

Castiel’s kiss turned chaste against the angel’s soft lips before kissing the tip of Dean’s nose and retreating back to meet confused green eyes.

“Hey—” Dean abruptly cleared his throat, “Come back here—”

“Something’s on your mind.”  He decided getting right to the point would be for the best.  “What is it?”

The angel’s nose scrunched, like that last kiss had tickled, and Cas couldn’t help himself—it was all too endearing.  He had to do it again.

Except this time, he brushed their noses together before pecking another kiss to the angel’s once more.  Perhaps, if he kept the situation light…

This time, Dean actually wiped a hand down his face (yes, it looked like it did tickle) and Cas cracked a grin in response.  But the angel didn’t seem that amused.

“I…”  This time, Dean did stutter.  “I didn’t like it.  It was this crazy wake-up call, I guess.”  His eyes began flitting everywhere except Cas’ while he looped his arms around the hunter’s neck.  “I’ve never been this close with a human.  And… human things.  And I’m really, _really_ close to you…”

“Dean, please.  Speak plainly.”

Finally, sluggishly, those brilliant eyes, always so full of emotion, caught Cas’ gaze—they overflowed with an emotion Cas had never witnessed or expected.  Of course, he’d been trusted enough for Dean to open up to him—to see and hear about the angel’s concerns before.  But this wasn’t a regular heart-to-heart; whatever Dean’s worry, it was much more troublesome and heavy on his mind.

“What I came to you about.  First fuckin’ thing I said, Cas…” Apparently, Dean couldn’t bring himself to actually _spit it out_.  But he didn’t need to.

Castiel _finally_ understood.

“Oh.”  Cas wasn’t sure if he should share the burden or be flattered.  “Mortality.”

_That_ was it.  Dean was finally faced with the fact that while _he’d_ be around forever, _Castiel_ would continue to advance in year, to pass, to—

Cas knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t stop the barked out laugh and quickly tried to explain, “I thought you said no matter what age, I was a looker?” then morbidly added, “It’s the _apocalypse_ , Dean.  Even if we manage to get out of this alive, a hunter has a very, very short shelf-life.  And—”

Fuck, by the growing turmoil and frustration building in Dean’s tense posture and his furrowed brow, he _knew_ he wasn’t helping, Cas needed to turn this around, now—

“What I’m attempting to get at… the point is—it won’t matter.  It _doesn’t_ matter.  There’s nothing to worry about, Dean.  You’ll be in my Heaven.”  Cas remembered what Gabriel called the sprint-like cacophony of their ‘Greatest Hits,’ but if the hunter had a say, his would be different.  Cas’ would wind down, a peaceful retreat from the constant battle they found on Earth.  It would be harmony.  He’d most likely be surrounded by his family and Dean.

“Wait,” the angel appeared genuinely shocked, “you mean that?”

Castiel squinted and asked, “Why wouldn’t I?  That is, considering, my soul isn't tainted enough that I—”

“You’re the Righteous Man, of friggin course you’re in.  Shit, you've got the golden ticket,” Dean shook his head in awe, repeating, “You’d really want _me_ there?”

“Dean…” Cas, just because he could, leaned down and kissed the bewildered angel’s nose again.  “I’m not sure how to get it to sink in.   _How much_ I love you.”

“I… think you just did…” The absolutely wild and brilliant smile that bloomed across Dean’s face—Cas would say that he finally got through that thick skull.  “Shit.  I love you.  I was scared.  Still am, just because I’m no good at this.  All these… _things_ , they’re brand spankin’ new, and I don’t know how I managed to win over someone like you.”

“You give yourself far too little credit,” Cas promised, and ducked forward again to kiss along the length of his angel’s neck.  “Is that okay?”

Dean didn’t answer at first.  He moaned as their bodies finally reunited, as Cas’ tongue traced the hinge of his jaw, and he made space for Cas between his legs.  This time, his touch wasn’t desperately trying to hold onto something fleeting—it was enjoying something that he recognized was right here—

A hint of teeth against Dean’s throat was both a sharp reminder there was a question (one he was foggy on) and a spike of excitement through his body.  “Huh—?  What was the—shit, Cas—!” the angel rocked his hips against the hunter, their passion now escalating to make up for lost time.

“Is it okay that you’re my Heaven?” Cas asked, and it was almost poetic, considering he was saying it to an angel.

Lightning-fast, Dean used his strength to haul Castiel upwards.  He wanted to see the hunter at eye-level, no matter how amazing Cas felt working his magic down his body.  Then Dean returned to him a single sweet, affectionate kiss on the nose.  “It’s amazing.  Because you’re already mine.”


End file.
